


Belong to You

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Collars, M/M, Romance, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humans have captured and enslaved the angels, two brothers learn that sometimes, things are not always how they're meant to be, and that destiny will always find a way to win out in the end. While one tries to come to terms with feelings he never wanted for an <i>angel</i> he never wanted, the other will be forced to do all in his power to hold onto the angel he's grown to love with all his heart. And by the time all is said and done, the world itself will be a very different place for all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Belong to You

His eyes glow golden in the light, and Sam can’t help but think of how different he looks from Castiel, the angel that belongs to his brother. Dean keeps Castiel dressed in normal jeans and t-shirts, but this angel is in what his parents probably thought was appropriate. A white robe which Sam thinks probably makes a mockery of what he really is. Still, he can’t stop drinking in the sight of this creature…this being who now belongs entirely to him.

The angel wears a collar, of course – they all do, because it’s the only way to control them. Enochian sigils crafted into gleaming silver keep the angels’ powers from breaking free, but Sam has never before thought of these collars as a turn-on until this very moment.

He swallows, stepping forward as he hasn’t done since his parents stopped by to present him with this amazing gift. The angel stiffens, but stays standing where he is. “What’s your name?” Sam asks.

The angel’s jaw clenches, but he can’t stop the answer from spewing forth, the spells woven into the collar prompting an honest response to a direct question. “Gabriel,” he growls. “They call me Gabriel.”

Sam tilts his head. “I’m Sam.”

The angel snorts. “You don’t want me to call you Master?”

“Only if you really want to,” Sam replies, and his mouth is tilting up in a half-smile, he means it as a joke, he really does…but then Gabriel’s eyes snap to his, and the words go from joking to heated, and that’s _lust_ burning in Gabriel’s eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

And Sam realizes, quite suddenly, that there isn’t anything stopping him from stepping forward again and taking what already belongs to him if he wants to.

And he _so_ wants to.

He’s taken that step, has reached out and grasped Gabriel’s hip with one hand before he even realizes he’s moved. The other hand goes to his face, caresses a cheek softly, and the angel’s eyes go wary. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing you don’t want,” Sam replies, and he means that. He’d never asked for a slave, never wanted one, but his parents being who they were – _the_ John and Mary Winchester – meant that Sam and Dean always got the finest things in life. He never plans to force anything on Gabriel though, never wants to own him like that…even if he does, technically, already.

But it doesn’t matter right now anyway. Gabriel _does_ want this, even if he hates himself for it, and Sam knows it. He can read the desire in those golden-hazel eyes as clearly as he can feel it burning through him. “I don’t trust humans,” Gabriel grits out. “And I certainly don’t like them.”

Sam thinks that works out quite nicely for him, because he happens to _be_ not-quite-fully-human, and to prove it, he lets his eyes go demon-dark just before he swallows Gabriel’s sharp gasp with his mouth.

Gabriel struggles and manages to wrench himself away, panting. “You’re not a demon,” he says, his eyes wide and sharp. “Even with this… _thing_ on me, I could tell if you were. What are you?”

Sam lets his eyes go back to hazel, eases his body back just enough to allow Gabriel to relax for a moment. “Does it matter? I bet you trust demons more than you trust humans.”

“Demons never tricked us into being their slaves,” Gabriel growls. “They were very clear about their contempt for us, and it was kill or be killed. Only humans stoop to such deception.”

“Well, I’m neither,” Sam says. “I was born human, and cursed with demon blood as a baby, and now I’m somewhere in between. But I never wanted you enslaved, and I certainly don’t want you dead. So take that how you will.”

Gabriel glares, still suspicious, but when Sam presses into him again, he doesn’t pull away, and when Sam bends to claim his mouth again, the angel opens and allows him to take.

Sam’s hand creeps up, runs along the smooth, cold metal of the collar, and Gabriel shudders. “Don’t -” he gasps.

Sam smiles a little and bites at his lip. “I’ll do what I please, and you’ll enjoy all of it,” he promises, and Gabriel’s body trembles again where it’s pressed against him. “With a single touch on this collar, you know I can cause pain. But I bet you didn’t know I could do this.” His finger traces a sigil, and Gabriel cries out as ecstasy courses through his veins.

The sound drives Sam onward, and he’s pushing Gabriel back, tearing the robe from his body just as the angel hits the bed and topples backwards, limbs flailing and eyes wide as he tries to process the sensations Sam is making him feel. “What are you… You can’t…”

“Of course I can,” Sam says, peeling his shirt off and crawling up the bed, holding himself propped over Gabriel. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me honestly you don’t, and I’ll stop. Because collar or no collar, I’m pretty sure you do.”

The glare Gabriel fixes him with is trying to be firm, but it’s weak, because Sam knows he’s right, and Gabriel clearly knows it as well. Knows it, but can’t understand it. “How do you make me feel this?” he asks, his voice desperate. “No one ever… And you…” He can’t complete a thought, and Sam feels a little thrill.

“Maybe I just got lucky enough to get a kinky angel,” he says, and his smirk appears softer than he intends it to. “But the way I figure it, if you’re going to be trapped somewhere, you might as well try to enjoy it, right?”

Gabriel looks as though he’s going to reply, but Sam doesn’t give him a chance, just leans down and kisses him again, curls his tongue around the angel’s as he presses down, grinds himself into his hard length. Gabriel moans brokenly, thrusting up into Sam. Sam’s hand clenches around the angel’s hip, then loosens, trails up his side, over his chest. When he pulls away, Gabriel’s eyes are dazed, his skin flushed, his cock hard against his belly. He stares up at Sam and makes a whimpering sound.

Heat flashes through him. “Turn over,” Sam says, and Gabriel hurries to obey, all inclination to fight his master having long since evaporated. Sam smiles, pleased. “You should tell me now…do you want me to take this slow and gentle, or fast and hard? It’s your choice, angel.”

Gabriel turns his head, peers up at Sam. “I don’t know,” he whispers.

“This is your first time?” Sam asks as he draws back, surprised. At the angel’s nod, he lets out a slow breath. “All right then.” He reaches over to the bedside table, grabs a jar of oil from the drawer. “We’ll go slow, this time.” His hand traces the ridges of Gabriel’s spine, all the way down until he’s trailing a finger down the crack of the angel’s ass, and Gabriel trembles. “You’ll need to tell me of you need me to stop.”

Gabriel doesn’t reply, and Sam takes that as a sort of permission to continue. He shimmies quickly out of the rest of his clothes, and then coats his fingers in the oil. Gabriel is quiet, breathing deeply into the pillow he has his face buried in, resting on his forearms, ass in the air waiting for Sam like the gift Gabriel himself already was.

The first finger goes in smoothly, and Sam hears the angel tremble out a breath. He uses his other hand to trace over the collar again, and there is a muffled cry at that. The second finger goes in almost as easily, and the sigil he traces this time has Gabriel shoving himself back, making Sam go deeper. He smiles a little.

“Just do it if you’re going to,” Gabriel says, lifting his head and turning to look back at Sam. “ _Please._ ”

Sam is pretty sure no one has ever gotten this particular angel to beg before, and it makes fire burn low in his gut. “Since you asked so nicely…” His voice is rough, and he removes his hand. Gabriel is still tight, not nearly prepped enough for his first time, but then, Sam doesn’t know a lot about how angels feel pain, so he could be wrong. He hopes he’s wrong.

He scoots closer to the angel, coats himself in oil and then grasps Gabriel’s hips to hold him as he lines himself up. The first push almost sends him over the edge, all slick heat and so tight he can barely stand it. Gabriel’s breathing is shallow, but he’s pushing back already, pressing into Sam, taking him in fully before Sam is even ready for it, and now it’s him who cries out as he tries to hold himself together.

Gabriel cranes his head, and he’s smirking, and that, more than anything, is what causes Sam to shove. The angel grunts and takes it, pushing back with every thrust as Sam begins pounding into him. He’s moaning and burying himself deeper into the pillow and taking Sam like it was what he was created to do, and it doesn’t take Sam long before he can’t hold back anymore. He reaches around, grasps Gabriel’s cock firmly and strokes a few times, then comes with a shout, spilling into Gabriel while the noises coming from the angel turn desperate.

“Sam… _Sam!_ ” Gabriel cries, and then he comes too, coating Sam’s fist and the sheets below him before he collapses to the bed. Sam falls on top of him, breathless and spent.

He breathes heavily for long moments before finally rolling to the other side of the bed and pulling Gabriel to him, away from the wet spot. The angel curls into his side, his eyes distant and thoughtful. “Okay?” Sam asks, gazing down at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No,” Gabriel replied, a little huff of laughter escaping him. “You would find that difficult, even with me being bound like this. No, I was just…thinking. I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how to handle it, I feel…lost.”

Sam is quiet for a few moments, and when he speaks, his voice is a whisper as he strokes a hand through the angel’s hair. “I’ll let you go, if you want. You can try your best to stay hidden, use whatever tricks you have to avoid getting captured again. Or, if you want… You can stay here, where I’ll keep you safe. You’ll have as much freedom as I can allow, you’ll see one of your brothers regularly. It won’t be a bad life for you.”

Gabriel is very still for a long time, and when he finally answers, he doesn’t do so with words. He releases a long breath, curls deeper into Sam, and allows himself to relax into sleep.

Sam smiles softly and promises himself that he’ll do whatever is necessary to take care of this creature that God has seen fit to allow into his life.

-  
Extra: [](http://funkyinfishnet.livejournal.com/profile)[**funkyinfishnet**](http://funkyinfishnet.livejournal.com/)'s companion piece: [It’s in the Breakdown ](http://funkyinfishnet.livejournal.com/158647.html)  
-  



	2. Keep Me Close

The collar clatters to the floor with a dull metallic clang, but neither of the men in the room notice, already too wrapped up in each other to care about anything beyond pressing together as close as possible, mouths seeking, flesh sliding, ecstasy building in flashes of light and color and _grace_.

“Cas,” Dean gasps, arching his neck. Castiel takes full advantage, nipping gently at the long curve, sucking at the bob of Dean’s throat. One hand pulls Dean’s shirt from his pants and slides underneath, grazing the soft skin of his back, tracing his spine with delicate fingers. The other goes to his belt and deftly undoes the buckle, then the button of his pants. “Jesus, Cas.” Dean pulls at Castiel’s t-shirt, breaking them apart just long enough to get it off.

“Must you always bring him into this when we are together?” Castiel murmurs, mouthing at Dean’s shoulder as he quickly unbuttons Dean’s shirt and slides it off of him.

“I hate you,” Dean replies, pushing his pants down and stepping out of them, then pressing immediately back against Castiel, the need to touch as overwhelming as it always is.

“You do not.” Castiel is smiling as he tilts Dean’s face down and kisses him greedily, swallowing down whatever reply Dean might make.

Dean moans, and he’s not nearly as dexterous as the angel, but he manages to get Castiel’s jeans undone and off of him without pulling away once, and he’s ridiculously proud of this accomplishment. Right up until Castiel maneuvers him back toward the bed and pushes him down onto it, and then Dean can’t think at all because the angel is crawling up his body, kissing as he goes, up Dean’s stomach, his chest, his neck, and then they’re pressed flush together as Castiel goes right back to claiming his mouth. His tongue licks its way inside and tangles with Dean’s, and Dean makes another desperate sound.

It’s at that point that Castiel seems to lose his ability to be patient, because Dean blinks, and the rest of the clothes they hadn’t yet managed yet to struggle out of are gone, and he’s pressed back against the pillows. Castiel’s length is digging into his hip, and it’s all he can do to not start thrusting against the angel here and now.

“That’s cheating,” he growls, and Castiel’s chest rumbles with laughter.

“I do not think you mind it so much.”

Dean has to admit there’s some truth to that statement, especially when Castiel moves to gently tug at his earlobe with his teeth at the same time as he rolls his hips, grinding against Dean. “You’re a goddamn tease, Cas,” he gasps.

“I am no such thing,” Castiel replies, changing the angle just enough that his cock slides against Dean’s. The look he graces him with as he does it is downright smug.

Dean scoffs, even as he makes a sound low in his throat and thrusts up against Castiel. “No. Course not. You’re a perfect angel.” Even in the midst of all this, he can’t help the snort of laughter at their own personal inside joke, and it earns a smile from Castiel was well.

Then Dean is taking control, grasping at Castiel’s arms and flipping them while the angel is still distracted enough to allow such an underhanded move. Castiel gasps as Dean straddles him, his cock fitting snugly in the crease of Dean’s ass, and Dean wriggles enough that he can be assured he’s getting suitable revenge for Castiel’s teasing.

Castiel arches up, trying to find more friction. His head is thrown back against the pillows, his hands clamped at Dean’s waist as he moans, long and low and as quiet as he always is. Dean leans down, nipping at the pulse point in Castiel’s neck, then soothing the spot with a gentle kiss.

“Dean,” Castiel says, voice cracking. “Now, please.”

Dean kisses him, the gesture both acquiescence and promise, and as he does so, he feels Castiel’s grace as it tingles over his skin, down his spine, caressing him and filling him and enfolding him as gently as Castiel himself has always done.

There are more wonderful things about having an angel as a lover than Dean could ever hope to count, and he’s always learning more. But when he can shift and push himself down onto Castiel’s cock with no preparation, and feel only the slightest burn and a pleasant tingling sensation, he’s reminded of one of the most convenient ones. Sometimes, when they’re in the mood for slow and gentle, they still take the time to do things fully the human way. But today has been a long day, and though his infinite patience always shines through on that beautiful face, in those otherworldly eyes, Castiel is as eager for it as Dean is.

Castiel proves this when he doesn’t even wait for Dean to lower himself fully, pushing up until he’s fully sheathed within him, sighing in pleasure even as Dean is practically whimpering, desperate for more, for anything Castiel will give him. The angel’s grace wraps more fully around him, and he trembles at the feeling, at the ecstasy that courses through him at the touch of something so pure, so _Castiel_.

Castiel’s hand goes from his hip to wrap around his cock, prompting Dean to start moving, the rhythm he sets familiar after their years together. It doesn’t take long, pleasure building fast in both of them, Castiel’s hand never faltering, but tightening just enough that Dean can tell when he’s close to the edge. Sparks of light are shooting behind his eyes, pleasure jolting down his spine, and he clamps down around the angel.

“Oh! _Dean!_ ” Castiel cries, still so impossibly soft even in the throes of passion, as he comes blindingly inside of Dean. There’s a flash of light, but Dean doesn’t shield his eyes from it. Instead, he drinks the sight in, reveling in the aura of grace and power that surrounds his lover, a sight that no one but he has ever been allowed. The pressure on his cock changes while he’s overcome with how beautiful his angel is, and he’s coming before he’s even aware of it, painting Castiel’s stomach with streaks of white and shaking in the aftermath as he collapses on top of him.

They lay like that, breathless and panting, for long moments, until Castiel manages to shift Dean off him and into his side. Dean curls around the angel, wrapping his leg over Castiel’s, pressing a hand to his chest as he uses his shoulder as a pillow. He murmurs, “Love you, Cas,” just as he’s drifting off, and falls asleep to the feeling of the kiss Castiel presses into his hair.

~*~

A harsh knocking on the door is what wakes Dean a few hours later, and he blinks his eyes open sleepily. Castiel’s hand is carding through his hair, and he’s way too damn comfortable to move. Whoever it is will go away eventually, he figures.

They don’t.

After several more minutes of insistent knocking, he hears his brother’s voice. “Damn it Dean, I know you’re in there, open the fuck up or I’m coming in anyway.”

Dean sighs. Sam will do it too, the little criminal. With a regretful look to Castiel, he climbs out of bed and tugs his clothes on, not particularly caring if he looks rumpled and debauched. It’s nothing Sam hasn’t seen before at one time or another. Castiel sits up, and between one breath and the next is dressed and impeccable looking, and Dean scowls at him halfheartedly, before giving in to a grin and rolling his eyes.

Just before he goes to answer the door, Castiel walks over to where the collar lays on the floor and picks it up, staring at it for a brief second before snapping it back around his neck. Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever get over that. How Castiel trusts him enough to collar _himself_ , knowing that it’s only for the benefit of other people, knowing that Dean would never want him so enslaved if it was his choice. He strides over to the angel and kisses him once, hard, and tries to convey everything he feels for him with his eyes before forcing himself away to let his brother in.

The first thing Dean notices is that Sam looks _pissed_. He hasn’t seen his little brother this spitting mad in years, and the only thing that ever gets him riled like this is their parents. Dean sighs again, because if this is about something their parents have done, it means this could take a while. He steps aside and lets Sam in without a word.

When Sam is in the living room, he turns back to face Dean, hands clenched, jaw working furiously. “Did you know about this?” he asks, his voice tight.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but this should be good. What’d they do now?” He sees Castiel enter the room and stand off to the side, out of the way but where he can still keep an eye on what’s going on. His head is tilted to one side, brow furrowed as he regards Sam, like he’s trying to figure something out that seems different.

Sam must see his gaze slide to the angel, because he turns and takes notice of Castiel himself. His shoulders tense even further, and now Dean’s really worried, because Castiel has never bothered Sam before. “Hey, Cas,” Sam says, obviously trying to reign the temper in from his voice. “I hate to be a complete dick, but I really need a few minutes alone with Dean.”

Dean and Castiel trade a look, and the angel nods to Sam. “Of course,” he replied. “It’s good to see you, Sam.” He finds other places to be, and Dean knows he’ll wait patiently for Dean to tell him whatever’s up. Dean and Castiel don’t really keep secrets from each other.

“Okay, tell me what’s up that has you being such a jackass to Cas of all people?” he says, nodding toward the two chairs in the room.

Sam takes a seat in one, elbows propped on his knees, head resting in his hands. “They gave me one,” he mumbles so quietly that Dean has to strain to hear him. When he makes out the words, he can only stare, waiting for more.

“Gave you one what?” he finally asks when Sam fails to clarify.

Sam looks up and glares at him. “They gave me a goddamn angel. For my birthday.”

Oh. _Oh_. No wonder he’s being such a dick right now. Sam doesn’t care much for the enslavement of the angels. He actually doesn’t care much one way or another, but Dean knows he’s never actually _wanted_ one. “Well… uh…” He’s not actually sure what to say. Though their parents are both hunters, some of the best at capturing the angels and selling them to the slave traders, they’ve never owned any themselves. And while Sam knows very little about how Dean came to have Castiel, he knows enough to know it wasn’t by way of Mary and John. “Did you try to talk to them about it? Tell them you didn’t want it?”

Sam scoffs. “Have you ever tried telling Mom and Dad you don’t want something they want you to have? They ‘want us to have all the best in life, all the things we never could’.” His voice is a perfect mockery of their mother’s, and Dean fights off a really inappropriate laugh.

“Well…what’s her name?”

“His name.” Sam shifts, looking uncomfortable, and Dean’s eyebrow creeps up. So _that’s_ how it is. And probably another reason his little brother is so pissy.

“Ah. So, it’s not that you didn’t like your present. It’s that you liked it maybe a little too much.”

Sam shoots him a classic bitchface. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t have…”

Dean holds up a placating hand. “I know. You’d never force that on anyone, slave or not. I know, Sammy. But I bet you’re still feeling guilty, ‘cause let’s face it, it’s you.”

Sam looks away, and that’s answer enough. “He… Jesus, Dean, he’s…” He swallows. “When I first saw him, it was like, _instant_. I wanted him. I actually _treated_ him like a slave, for a while there.” Another harsh swallow. “I’d let him go if I thought he’d last long enough to make it away from here.”

The other eyebrow goes up. Freeing an angel gets a pretty hefty punishment, and not always just a fine or imprisonment. Sam doesn’t like the slavery of the angels, but he’s never exactly been pro-rebellion either. “Sam, c’mon, you don’t mean that.” Sam’s eyes come back to his, and okay, Dean can see that he apparently does. He leans back in his chair, releases a breath. “Well, kind of a moot point anyway, right? You’re not actually _going_ to free him.”

Sam’s very quiet for a long moment, before he finally says softly, “I gave him the choice. He decided to stay. But how much of a choice is it really anyway? Angels don’t last long out there anymore. People like Mom and Dad have gotten too good with their traps, and too brutal with their treatment.”

Dean knows the truth of that, knows how it tears Castiel apart to see it. He sighs. He can’t believe Sam actually went that far, actually gave this angel the choice to leave. He’s grateful to the unknown angel for staying, because whatever would have happened to Sam for freeing him wouldn’t have gone over well with their parents. And it might have ended pretty badly for his little brother as well. “Nothing you’re gonna do about it right now, Sammy. I’m sorry I didn’t know to give you a heads up, though. I’da tried to cut them off at the pass if I thought it would’ve helped.”

“I know. I’m sorry I came in here so...” he waves a hand, “…y’know. It just…really took me by surprise. And then Gabriel –”

Dean leans forward, his eyes sharpening. He doesn’t know why, can’t remember where he’s heard it, but he knows that name. “Gabriel?”

“That’s his name.”

It’s right at the edge of his memory, something Castiel must have told him at some point, but for the life of him, it’s not coming to him, and Dean lets it go for now. “So what are you gonna do?” he asks. “And where’s your angel now, anyway?”

“At my place, resting. I didn’t want to bring him here yet, with Castiel… I mean, he knows that one of his brothers is here, but this soon, I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea…”

“It was good thinking,” Dean admits. “Doubt Cas would have been ready for that either. Not often he gets to see his family.” The thought hurts Dean as much as he knows it hurts Castiel, because if he could give the angel those links, those ties back to his family, any of them, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Sam sighs. “Guess I’ll go back for now, think things through, talk them out with Gabriel. I never asked for this, but I want to…make it as easy as possibly for him, you know? Is that stupid?”

“No, Sammy,” Dean replies, shaking his head. Someday, he’s going to have to come clean to his kid brother about how things are with Castiel. He thinks that day might be approaching pretty quickly. “Not stupid at all.” He leans forward, claps Sam on the shoulder. “Call me when things are a little more sorted out, we’ll plan a meeting. Think it’ll be good for them to see each other.”

Sam nods, one corner of his mouth quirking up just a little. “Thanks, Dean,” he says, standing.

“Anytime.”

Sam leaves, and Dean leans back against the closed door, breathing out slowly, wondering how many things this is going to fuck up in his world _this_ time.

~*~

He finds Castiel back in the bedroom, propped up against the pillows reading, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, looking far more relaxed than Dean knows he actually is. He crawls onto the bed next to him, traces a finger over the collar more out of habit than any conscious thought, and barely notices it fall to the bed. Castiel plucks it up and places it on the bedside table, closes his book carefully, and turns to Dean. “Is everything all right?” he asks, blue eyes penetrating.

Dean purses his lips, not really sure how to answer. “Things are…interesting. My parents made a mess of things the way they usually do, but… I’m not so sure it’s such a bad thing, this time.” Without really thinking about it, he scoots closer to Castiel, sighs a little when the angel’s arm comes around him. It’s late, and he’s tired and wants nothing more than to curl into Castiel and fall asleep, but short of that, he’ll take the cuddling while they talk.

“If you would prefer to keep it between Sam and yourself, I understand, Dean,” Castiel says, voice gentle.

Dean is tempted to put it off, just so he can wrap his mind around his brother having an angel of his own, _feeling_ things for an angel of his own. It’s certainly not something he ever expected, and Sam clearly doesn’t know how to deal with it. But… “My parents purchased an angel to give to Sam.”

He feels the way Castiel tenses, his arm tightening around Dean as his eyes slide away to focus on some point farther off in the room. “Did he tell you the name?” he asks, carefully. Hesitant in a way Castiel rarely is around only Dean.

Dean hesitates as well, because whatever it is he can’t remember about the name, he thinks it’s important. But in the end, he’s never kept something from Castiel before and won’t start when it comes to the angel’s own family. “Sam said his name was Gabriel.”

“Oh…” The word comes out as a soft moan. “Oh, Father, no. They don’t even know what they’ve done.” He shifts, turns to more fully face Dean. “Are you sure that was the name your brother gave you?”

Dean nods, eyes wide. This sounds more serious than he’d anticipated, and he doesn’t like the way Castiel’s eyes are agonized. “Cas, what is it? Who’s Gabriel?”

Castiel’s eyes close, and he’s trembling, just slightly, just enough for Dean to notice as his fingers lightly trace the angel’s arm. “An archangel. Dean, they’ve captured and collared an archangel.”

Dean’s blood goes cold.

~*~

Here are the few things Dean has learned since Castiel came into his life:

The angels never meant to remain on earth as long as they did. A few came down to avert an apocalypse before it began, hundreds of years ago, and some grew complacent with humanity, befriending them, trusting them too much. Humanity, in its infinite wisdom, wanted to harness their power, and so they did, using witches and old Enochian magic to create collars that would enslave these heavenly beings, using their trust and their friendship against them.

When the angels still in Heaven became aware of what was happening, more came, desperate to rescue their brethren, but by that point, a legion of Hunters had formed, humans who knew how to use the Enochian sigils, knew enough to be able to trap an angel within them. Hundreds, thousands of angels were taken, beaten and enslaved, used for anything from sex to household chores, being bodyguards to being little more than ornaments of status.

Now there are almost no free angels still trying to rescue their brothers and sisters. The only hope left, the only beings who may yet have the power to form a rebellion, are the archangels, because God has not come to free his children, and most of them have lost hope that he ever will. Everything rests on the archangels, and up until this point, none have ever been seen walking the earth.

Until now.

Until Gabriel.

~*~

It’s been a long time since Castiel last saw Gabriel, and they were never exactly close to begin with. He was relatively far down on what Dean would call the ‘celestial food chain’, and Gabriel was very high up on it. But it’s been a long time since he was able to have any sort of close contact with a member of his family, and despite the fact that he’s largely going into the unknown here (an archangel, Gabriel is an _archangel_ , and how did this happen?), he finds himself both nervous and excited as Dean gets ready to go to Sam’s.

Even if Gabriel truly did just get unlucky enough to be trapped and taken, there are worse fates than belonging to one of the Winchester brothers. If he’s here for another reason…

But that’s getting ahead of himself, and after the years he’s been with Dean, he knows better.

He closes the collar around his neck just as Dean is finishing up, gives Dean what he hopes is a warm and reassuring look as Dean’s mouth twists into the faint grimace he always wears when Castiel wears the collar. They both know it’s necessary. Castiel is a registered slave at this point, and if someone saw him without this mark of ownership, Dean would be in more trouble than Castiel cares to think about, and they would take Castiel from him, put him on the slave market, and he would likely never see Dean again.

He would rather die than face that fate.

Coming over to him, Dean caresses a hand down his cheek, leans down to capture Castiel’s mouth with his own. Castiel loses himself in the kiss for long moments, his hands at Dean’s waist as he presses against him, always, _always_ trying to get closer.

Dean pulls away and grins sheepishly. “We should get going. Ready, Cas?”

Castiel nods, gracing Dean with a small smile of his own as he lays a hand on his shoulder and takes them to Sam’s between one heartbeat and the next. Dean calls it Air Angel. He simply calls it more convenient than Dean’s car. But it’s perhaps more that he enjoys a reason to spread his wings a little, as much as the collar allows.

Sam’s kitchen is empty when they arrive, and Dean calls out for them.

“Be right there!” Sam yells back from the bedroom, and he sounds out of breath.

Castiel can be naïve about humanity sometimes, but he’s not an idiot, and knows what that probably means. He raises a pointed eyebrow at Dean. “You failed to mention that aspect of their relationship.”

Dean shrugs, flushing a little. “Wasn’t purposely keeping it from you, but…more Sammy’s business, you know?”

Castiel supposes he can understand that. Still, it’s surprising. From what he remembers of Gabriel, it seems unlikely that the archangel would enter into that sort of relationship willingly with a human…or, as human as Sam Winchester is, anyway. And Castiel has enough faith in Sam to know he would never have forced the issue, even if it seems to be within his power to do so.

Sam and Gabriel choose that moment to enter the kitchen, the former straightening his t-shirt with a blush dusting his cheeks, the latter looking cool and collected and maybe even a little smug. Castiel could weep, for being in the presence of one of his brethren after so long, but Gabriel’s eyes immediately go to Dean, and they widen.

Castiel knows what it is he sees, and without consciously willing his body to do so, he takes a step closer to Dean. _Mine_ , the action says, and the archangel’s eyes slide to his, a question burning in those golden-hazel depths that Castiel does not know if he’s ready to answer.

“Well, this is nice and awkward,” Sam says after a moment. “Tell you what, how ‘bout Dean and I go take a walk somewhere, leave you guys to catch up?”

Castiel sees Gabriel nod to him as he brushes a hand along Sam’s arm. Sam’s hand grasps his for no more than a second, and then he gestures for Dean to follow him out of the house. Castiel watches them leave, and then looks back to Gabriel, tilting his head. “It’s good to see you, brother,” he says quietly. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.

Gabriel laughs, not pleasantly. “Castiel, right?”

He nods.

“Castiel, there _are_ no different circumstances for our kind. Haven’t you figured that out yet? This is your life now.”

The archangel sounds bitter, and it pains Castiel to hear it. He inclines his head, a gesture of respect. “I did not mean different circumstances for me, brother. _My_ life is what I want it to be.”

There is a moment of shocked silence. “You _want_ to be collared? Enslaved, treated like nothing more than a common _pet?_ ” Gabriel spits the words, and he looks and feels angry, pressure building around them, making the air heavy and thick and dark.

Gabriel is clearly far from powerless, even bound as he is.

“I do not mean disrespect, Gabriel, nor do I mean to belittle the situation our family finds itself in. I only meant that I, personally, have no complaints for myself. Nor would I leave even if given the choice.” Castiel stands firm even under the powerful glare, because there’s nothing he has ever believed more than that he belongs with Dean Winchester. He does not need Gabriel to understand that, or even accept it. He just needs it to be known.

“You were caught, collared, sold, and trained just like a common dog,” Gabriel says, disgust in his voice.

“No,” Castiel denies, much quieter now. “I was not.” He takes a breath he does not technically need, braces himself against the anger and disbelief he fears he’s about to unleash. “I gave myself willingly.”

  


~*~

_He felt a human close by, and could tell that they were injured. Mortally. He **moved** , allowing his grace to seek out the brilliant soul he could sense, and when he found it, he was staring into green eyes that delved deeper into him than any angel ever had seen. The man was lying in a hole that had been dug into the ground, and as he peered at him, he could see that a sharp branch had impaled him, clean through his abdomen. He was bleeding out, and wouldn’t last long. The thought was physically painful to Castiel, and he couldn’t understand how he was so drawn to a stranger. A **human**._

_When he saw Castiel, the man panicked. “Get out of here, you idiot!” he yelled, and the action caused him to cough, blood flecking his lips. He groaned, his eyes slipping closed as pain overwhelmed him._

_Castiel could see that this was one of the angelic traps he was warned about before coming to earth. Enochian sigils glowed faintly around the edges of the hole, the ground consecrated with some sort of oil he did not recognize. There was no way for him to get to this injured man without dropping into the trap himself. He took a step forward, almost against his will._

_The man’s eyes flew open and he hissed. “You need to go,” he begged. “Please, before someone sees you here. These traps are checked twice a day, and I don’t know when someone will be by next.”_

_“Then you do not know if someone will come in time to save you.”_

_He groans again. “Just get the fuck **out of here!** ” he yelled, and began coughing in earnest, turning his head to the side to avoid choking on blood._

_Castiel knew only enough to know that if he didn’t save the man before him, he would regret it for the rest of his existence. He took another step forward._

_The man couldn’t even open his eyes to look at him, too weak now. “If you come in here, the only way you’ll be able to leave is with a collar around your neck. Don’t do it. Please, God, don’t do it.”_

_Castiel’s head tilted, his mind racing with the implications. “Do you have one of the collars on you?” he asked, soft voice carrying just far enough for the man to hear._

_His eyes went wide again. “No, don’t! I’m not worth it, you stupid feathered bastard.”_

_“Do you or don’t you?” Castiel asked again._

_The man’s eyes closed. “It’s required,” he whispered. “I have one, but please…don’t ask me to…”_

_“I am not asking,” Castiel said, and lowered himself into the trap to save the dying man, whose name was Dean Winchester._

_“Why?” Dean asked, his voice desperate and broken as Castiel’s grace flowed through him only moments later. “Why would you give up your freedom for me?”_

_“Why do you believe you don’t deserve to be saved?” Castiel countered, kneeling with one hand pressed to the bloody wound and one pressed to Dean’s forehead._

_Dean would never give an answer before the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him, and Castiel would never ask again._

~*~

He isn’t entirely sure, but as Castiel finishes his story, he thinks Gabriel’s eyes look softer, more forgiving. He does not understand, not fully, not yet…but he has accepted that it was Castiel’s choice, and that he does not wish to change it.

“So, you fell in love with a human, and gave up your freedom for him to save his life.” Gabriel shook his head. “I remember you were always one of the strangest angels in the garrison, Castiel, but this takes the cake, I think.”

He does not mean it entirely as an insult, and Castiel’s lips twitch into a small smile. “I know it’s different for me, and that I am much luckier than many of our brothers and sisters. If I could change things for them, I would. But it’s simply not possible, as things are.”

He’s watching Gabriel, and so does not miss the speculative look the archangel gives. “And if things could be changed?” he says, his voice challenging. “Would you do all in your power to help to change them?”

Castiel hesitates. He doesn’t know, not for sure, not without knowing how it would affect Dean, and he finally tells Gabriel as much.

Gabriel doesn’t look surprised. “I’m not here by chance, Castiel,” he reveals after a moment. “This collar holds me only as long as I allow it to do so. I…manipulated events to be here, now.” His gaze darkens with something like uncertainty. “Things are…not how I expected them to be. But it doesn’t change my purpose.”

Castiel is finding it difficult to draw a breath. “And what is your purpose here, Gabriel?”

Gabriel’s eyes flash gold with his grace as he draws himself up. “Your human and his brother are the descendants of Cain and Abel. What’s happening on earth to our family was prophesized millennia ago. Those prophecies go on to state that Sam and Dean are destined to bring about the rebellion that will free us.”

Eyes widening, Castiel steps back. It can’t be possible. It can’t…

But Father, it would explain so much…

There’s a harsh smirk on Gabriel’s face. “I’m afraid it appears you and your precious human are not meant to live a simple life after all. Sorry, brother.”

He takes in Gabriel’s expression, and his own gaze narrows. “And you, brother? How do you feel, knowing that the human you find yourself inexplicably in love with is destined for something so very impossible?”

Gabriel face darkens with fury, but he is never able to give an answer, because as they stand facing each other down, Dean and Sam return, talking happily and smiling at their respective angels, and the moment for callous answers and cruel truths is broken.

~*~

Castiel enters his apartment with Dean in something like a daze, not even noticing when Dean’s hand releases the lock on the collar, or when he presses against Castiel from behind, wrapping warm arms around his waist and laying his cheek on his shoulder. He only just catches it when Dean asks, “What’s up with you tonight?”

He can’t tell Dean, not now. Not when it’s so fresh in his own mind, and not when Dean is warm and loving and _safe_. Castiel can’t break him with this yet, because he doesn’t know if Dean is ready to handle it. He _knows_ he is not. “Nothing,” he finally replies. “Just some things Gabriel said that I’d rather not think about right now.”

“Fair enough.” Dean smiles at him, takes his hand to lead him into the bedroom. Castiel follows as he always does, as he always _will_ , no matter where this man’s destiny may take him. They lay on the bed, wrapped around each other, Castiel holding just a little tighter than normal, as though he can keep Dean safe just by holding him in his arms and refusing to let go.

He doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, doesn’t know what Gabriel’s mission will entail or how the brothers will begin a full-scale rebellion of the angels. The not knowing is terrifying to him, and the fear tears at him, threatens to rip him apart and leave his grace in tatters. The only thing that keeps him together is the love of the man beside him, the way Dean unconsciously cuddles in closer and tightens his own hold on the angel, the way he knows both he and Dean would do anything, _give_ anything to keep the other safe.

When the time comes, he will use that to get them through, and he will have confidence that they will persevere together, because what force can stand against the grace and the faith and the _love_ of Heaven and Earth combined?

He listens to the soft sounds of Dean’s breathing as he falls asleep, and he wraps them both in his grace as tightly as he can while whispering quiet prayers to a Father he has never stopped believing in.

 

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